September Poem 2: Her Own Special Hat

When among moms, each girl could really lose

Track of the melodramatic conflict

Between a parent’s intention and her

Boyfriend’s instead finding the joint between

God and heaven. Correlation growing

Above the mountain top. A beautifully

decorated children’s choir of storm

Rose in the sagebrush. The paler green of

Its waxless foliage would adorn their

Hats and earth information on Twitter.

Shumaker played well in the first and ate

Her own special hat more than anything.

They wore them to the brunch dreaming of what

They thought they wanted one Friday morning.

December Poem 6

Divergent Loathing in Las Vegas.

 

Gotta get em young.

Hotdog crust fried chicken.

They gotta eat.

 

Jesus. In that dress I teabagged,

She seemed miraculous:

A shift from non-ceased following,

A negative in an instant,

And often, an expert use of a hundred logic arrows.

My God, her butt did look big.